Enemy Within (Vampire Born Trilogy, #2) (31 page)

“Uki … Uki?”

“Ukinuti. It’s his power to abolish other powers. The reason you could not jump space out of his clutch. Had I shown you how to use Sanjam the way I do, you could have been safe.”

I recall Emerik’s cold hands around my neck. My will to flex out of his reach and how it wouldn’t work. How I pulled against his fingers, trying to overpower him. How I screamed for help when all else failed, and even that was taken from me.

A shiver starts at the back of my neck and travels down my spine thinking about it. “So how do I do it?”

“Begin the same way you always do when using Sanjam, but don’t push it out. And instead of letting it go like you do when you’re not using it anymore, think about pulling it inward.”

I nod and focus on my awareness. I extend it out in habit, but hold it there because my dad said not to drop it. Then I focus on bringing it to the back of my skull. I’m not sure if this is how it’s done, but this is the only way I can imagine bringing it back or reversing it.

A knock sounds on the door, and I drop it.

Everything about the day, about what’s happened recently, comes crashing back into the forefront.

I huff with the weight of it all.

My dad stands. “I have meetings all day so we’ll have to continue this tomorrow.” He kisses me on the top of my head. “Come in.”

I smile.

Mirko steps in with Jaren behind him. “Sorry to interrupt,” Mirko says to my dad, then peers at me, “but we have to go if we plan to make it on time.”

I slide off my bed and run over to my closet. I pull my black heeled boots out and start pulling them on.

My dad strolls toward the door. He stops next to Mirko and leans in briefly before he continues out to the hallway.

The look on Mirko’s face tells me my dad whispered something to him, and whatever it was would have anyone else looking on in fear. Mirko’s face doesn’t do fear, though.

It does blank.

“Mirko,” I hiss.

He slowly turns his head toward me, but his eyes don’t see me.

“What did he say to you?”

He blinks and it’s as if nothing happened. “Are you ready?” He completely ignores my question.

I furrow my brows, taking in his stance, where Jaren stands, everything my dad and I talked about.

I consider pushing him to tell me, but whatever causes him to keep it from me is probably a good reason.

I’ll save it for later.

I zip up my boot and stand. “Yeah, let’s go.”

C
HAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Mirko

When Brooke and I get out of the last class for the day, tree limbs droop to the ground with the weight of sodden leaves. The sun shines through cracks in the dark clouds, but the rain’s aftershave is still thick in the cold air.

Jaren is going back to work today and is having a friend from the lacrosse team drop him off. I feel sorry for the kid. I mean, he just lost his best friend, but a part of me is glad for the break. Brooke has been hovering over him every chance she gets. And seeing him only reminds her of what happened.

Brooke’s meeting with the Commission is on Friday, so I’d like to provide her with a small reprieve. I’m not sure yet what it’ll be, but I’m certain it can’t happen with Jaren around.

Ace came to school today in case Kaitlynn showed up, so he’ll be driving the Land Rover back.

Brooke and I weave through high schoolers, narrowly avoiding the small puddles across the parking lot on our way to her car. She pulls out her phone again, checking to see if Kaitlynn’s texted. The frown on her face indicates she hasn’t.

I sling my arm over Brooke’s shoulder and pull her into me. “She needs time.”

We stop next to Brooke’s door. She glances back at the building. “It all seems so pointless now.”

I pull back and tug on her chin until she’s looking at me. Her skin is warm against the chill in my fingers. Her blue irises are bright, but her face is sad. “Don’t say that. This school, this town, it’s your life. Your life is never pointless, Slatki.” It’s why I allowed her to talk me into coming back here with her. Her life is here, and until I can’t protect her here anymore, this is where she needs to be.

My eyes narrow and my brows pinch together. “Nothing has ever meant as much to me as your life does right now. As it did yesterday. As it will tomorrow. So don’t say that. Don’t even think it.”

We gaze at each other, our bodies locked in the same breath. Everyone around us fades to a white blur, static mingling with the sound of every beat of her heart.

She licks her lips and I know she’s fighting the same urge I am. I need—I ache—to kiss her, to have my hands around her and take some of her sorrow and disappointment in the world away.

I can’t stand to see her unhappy. I’ve never thought of myself as weak, but when she’s like this, I feel completely useless.

When I’m kissing her, I know she’s not thinking about what could or might happen to her later. She’s not thinking about the tragedies of the past. All she’s thinking about is my body and how hers reacts to it.

I’m losing my strength to resist her. “Let’s get out of here,” I say and roll my bottom lip between my teeth.

Her lips twitch with a smile, and her eyelashes dip. She turns around and climbs into her seat.

I spot Ace on my way around the car and hold up both hands—give me a ten-minute head start?

He offers me a thumbs up, then shakes his head, grinning.

I crank the car and speed out of the parking lot. I now know what kind of distraction Brooke needs. I take Highway 60 and speed toward Garwin’s. “Did your dad say what time he’d be done with his meetings?”

Brooke smiles. “No, just that he had meetings all day, so that’s why he came to talk to me before school. He said he’d finish talking to me tomorrow.”

We pass the main after-school traffic. It’s only us and the road. I put the cruise control on and reach my hand across the car, resting it on Brooke’s thigh.

She peers at me with wide, excited eyes and spreads her knees. She’s trying to hold back a smile, but I want to see it.

I reach farther and glide my hand along the inside of her thigh.

The rise and fall of her chest quickens.

My thumb rubs along the rough fabric of her jeans.

She drops her head back against the seat and her eyelids flutter closed. She bites her lip and rocks her hips slightly with the same speed as my hand, working to get more friction.

By the time we pull into Garwin’s neighborhood, she’s rocking in earnest and I’m trying to talk myself out of going down her pants.

I pull the car into the space on the side of the house as we’re less likely to be seen here. We scramble out of the car and I meet her on her side.

I kiss her, but she demands more. I push her against the car with my hips.

She lifts one leg and wraps it around my thigh, stroking the back of my head with the tips of her nails, going against the growth.

Chills run down my spine.

Damn, I love when she does that.

I grab her ass and lift her. I need more of her.

She wraps both legs around my hips, deepening the kiss—kissing me so deeply my soul kisses her back.

She always responds to me, but this feels different. We’ll be going from start to finish with relatively no foreplay.

Usually that’d be fine with me, but this isn’t only our first time. It’s going to be Brooke’s first time—ever. I’ve held back on so many occasions with her because I want her first time to be right.

This borders on taking advantage of her in this glum state. If I found out someone did that to a girl, I’d kick his ass. And this is too close to one of those “you had to be there” situations to really understand it.

It’s a godawful struggle, but I pull away and settle for the next best release. “Meet me in the gym in ten minutes so we can train.”

“Mirko, no.” She tightens her thighs around my hips, pulling me closer, which I didn’t think was possible—and shushes me. “Kiss me,” she whispers and licks the underside of my top lip.

I’m hanging on by a small thread until she rocks her hips against me.

I lose it and do what she tells me. I latch onto her bottom lip and grind my hips into her.

The sound she makes is a mix between a moan and a purr.

Oh, shit. I have to stop this before I really can’t.

I take a step back and lift her so she’ll unwrap her legs from around me.

She drops her legs to the ground, and I wonder if hers are as shaky as mine.

I’m not sure if it’s because I’m so damn turned on or because I have to resist it, but God, the loss is painful.

I drop my forehead to hers and pull her arms from around my neck, trying to catch my breath. “Just … meet me in the gym.”

I turn and walk toward the house. Away from her. I don’t look back because I can’t. If I see disappointment or confusion, I’ll turn back. Even worse, if I see heat in her baby blues, I’ll turn around and rip those jeans clean from her body.

I don’t stop once I’m inside. I walk down the hall toward the back of the house, through the game room, and down the stairs into the gym.

I walk over to the punching bag and hit it, letting out a loud growl.

Son of a bitch! I want her so bad.

My body’s keyed up—shaking, humming. Calling to her.

I work it out with combo after combo onto the punching back. When I become a little more stable on my feet, I throw kicks into the combos.

I start to sweat and take off my pullover, then tug the T-shirt over my head and throw them onto a workout bench next to the floor-to-ceiling mirrors. The white chinos I’m wearing are loose enough that I can maneuver in them fine, which is good because I don’t want to go upstairs to change. I kick the Dockers off and begin my stretch routine.

I see Brooke in the mirror when she reaches the bottom stair.

My jaw drops.

I straighten my back and turn to her.

She strolls into the gym. I swear she’s even swaying her hips, wearing a tight, white tank top with a black sports bra underneath, and
booty shorts
.

I watch the shorts and the legs wearing them until they stop in front of me. My gaze travels up her body, and I say the only thing on my mind. “I want to tear your shorts off with my teeth.”

She smiles and holds up a condom in shiny, red packaging. “Good, because I want you to.”

I’m instantly hard.

I adjust myself in my pants and step back. “Dammit, Slatki. I want you. So fucking bad. But I can’t let your first time be because of grief.” She has to see the pain on my face. She’s fucking hurting me now.

She strides over to me and holds my face in her hands, the condom’s wrapper crinkling in my ear. “Mirko, I want you. I’ve wanted you since the moment I first saw you, with your defined muscles,” she runs her hands down my bare arms, “teasing me through your T-shirt. I’ve wanted you since our first kiss and when you asked me into your bed. I’ve wanted you at every kiss, every touch, every time you look at me. It’s kind of pathetic how much I want you.” She caresses my face with her fingers. “This has nothing to do with grief and everything to do with you. I’m sick of carrying around this ache for you because you never heal it.”

That does it.

My walls are gone. Any resistance I could’ve found melts away like ice near a flame. And it fans my desire for her.

I snatch the condom from her fingers and walk her back toward the mirrors. If we’re doing this, I’m going to watch—all of it.